Hello, Braulio:
We never got to meet.
Many decades have passed since Arrecife stopped having you physically within it, and several generations have grown up without being able to hear from your hand those creations, arrangements, and music that, with so much affection and care, you helped to revitalize.
I belong precisely to one of those generations. I grew up in an Arrecife without your figure, but in which, somehow, your presence was still real every time a habanera was played.
Lately, through my work as a cultural agent and as the person in charge of compiling a good part of the historical information of the Parranda Marinera and Los Buches, I have been encountering you.
First it was your name.
Then, your signature and your initials on the founding act of our association.
There you were, in 1963, alongside that group of brave individuals who, driven by the desire to recover and preserve an essential part of our Canarian identity, decided to form an association that would help save Arrecife's maritime legacy through the Parranda Marinera and keep alive, from the old carnival to the Traditional Carnival, the ritual of Los Buches.
And, as if that had not been enough, ten years later, in 1973, you left another fundamental mark on the city by founding and establishing the Coral Polifónica de Arrecife, contributing, through lyrical singing, vocal technique, and choral practice, to continue building the cultural and musical identity of Arrecife.
Both groups, also born from your cultural and musical action, continue today to sign their commitment each year to the music of the sea and to habaneras: genres deeply rooted in the memory, the soundscape, and the very essence of belonging to this port city.
And it is beautiful to see how, over time, more and more people, groups, and institutions are approaching your figure and joining in keeping your memory alive.
We remember you every time we sing and play a habanera.
From the Parranda Marinera de Buches, we remain deeply committed to the preservation of your memory and your legacy. You are with us in "La Bella Lola," in "La Caña Dulce," and in every new habanera we incorporate into our repertoire, in which we strive to preserve that musical essence that you helped to imprint on the group.
Yesterday, moreover, you were literally above us at the XXXVI Encounter of Habaneras and Sea Music that bears your name within the framework of the San Ginés de Arrecife Festivities.
Your image presided over the stage as we sang, and that is why I wanted to write these words to accompany that photograph in which you appear playing the violin above our heads.
Many of us did not get to know you. The most seasoned, the older ones, did have that fortune. The rest of us have had to discover you through their memories, through the minutes, through the scores, through the photographs, and, above all, through the music.
But I can assure you that yesterday your gaze, your judgment, and your essence hovered over José Ramírez Cerdá Park like a presence full of harmony.
You were in everyone: in those who form the popular music ensemble and the performance ensemble; in every string, in every chord, and in every voice, as well as in the people from the other groups who sang in your memory last night.
In us, you were in Sergio Betancort Rodríguez, whose deep voice filled the park with seafaring sweetness; in the sensitivity and emotion of Darío Pérez Fajardo; in the strength, harmony, and intensity of Alejandra Díaz Cárdenes; and in the distinctive and profoundly Arrecifeña voice of Nacho S. Miranda.
All of this under the musical direction of maestro Abián Rodríguez and symbolically accompanied by all those sailors and bucheros who, before us, passed through these ranks and kept the mast of your memory held high.
Rest assured, Braulio, that we will continue to sing to the sea.
And when we look at our little ones, when we hear their voices joining ours, we also find hope that the original Arrecifeña culture linked to the ocean will continue to live long after us.
Perhaps therein lies the true dimension of a legacy: in remaining when we are no longer here; in continuing to appear in the voices of those who never knew us; in becoming, almost without realizing it, a part of a city's memory.
I never had the opportunity to meet you.
But, after finding you so many times among papers, music, photographs, and memories, I feel that Arrecife still holds something of you every time a habanera looks back towards the sea.
Thank you for so much, Braulio.
This city will always remember you.
Sincerely,
David Machado Gutiérrez
Artistic director of the Parranda Marinera de Buches Association
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